prologue, trade secrets
by Wreckoning
Summary: a prologue to an action mystery adventure set within the pokemon world. It has darker themes than the mainsteam pokemon anime/games and manga. Using more real world weaponry, crime syndication and elements of new world order. Pokemon trainers and those on pokemon journeys still exist, but they are only lightly touched on compared to the criminal element and freelance operators.


The sight of a ninety square foot pane of armoured fabri-glass descending seamlessly into the penthouse apartment-come business retreat of Delacroix industries said many things about the man who owned it. That he was driven to vain and obscure expenses, that he constantly mixed work and pleasure, that cost was no obstruction to security and aesthetic appeal... and that he knew that mewtwo was coming early enough to lower his oversized power window in advance.

As soon as the psychic Pokemon entered the suite mewtwo knew the room had been prepared for him, or something like him. The stale dessicated air cycled quickly to remove the atmospheric moisture from his body, even as the previously dim skyscraper topping palace came alive to receive him. It was all a show, of course, a statement that said "I knew you were coming, step into my office." The pokemon obliged with the levitating equivalent of a purposeful stride.

The twelve foot gilded double doors emblazoned with the letters "MD" parted soundlessly as mewtwo approached. The display of self aggrandizement parting to reveal the man himself sitting sixty feet away at a large crystal desk, dark skinned face and manicured features shrouded in shadow with the exception of the blue light emanating from the integrated hologram projectors that formed his "command centre". Maximillion Delacroix did not take well to sleep.

The tall psychic type crossed the distance in seconds with a machinelike precision woven into his DNA since creation and loomed over the human before him.

"Ah, #150, the feelings are mutual i presume." Delacroix said cheerily, a perfect smile glinting in the projected light from his electronics.

Mewtwo's eyes flashed with psychic energy for a split second, the magenta light burning through the shadow for a moment before bleeding off like dry ice in the sun.

_Apparently not, you seem to be under the impression that we are friends._

If the man was surprised about the psychic invasion of privacy, he showed none of it on neither his face nor his surface thoughts. An improvement in compulsive thinking since their last meeting.

"Ah, that must be my professional standards." The man replied, turning his head from the monitors to meet the powerful gaze of the pokemon before him. "I see all my clients as friends."

Mewtwo frowned, though most people or Pokemon wouldn't notice the expression, to them he was always frowning. Then, dragging a three fingered hand along the receptive markings inlaid into the crystal desk before him, he brought up a monitor.

_A friend who you constantly try to monitor with satellites?_

The accusation coincided with an image being projected among the mass of synthetic data already there, blueprints for high altitude surveillance systems and EMS maps for coverage. He returned Delacroix's appraising look with a smirk of his own. Smugness, unlike frowning, was a look that no being had failed to recognize. Mewtwo felt he'd taken to it well.

"Ah." Maxamillion responded, as his hands danced across the desk bringing up and closing monitors quicker than the eye could follow. "That would mean you were responsible for Unova then?" He said with a raised eyebrow, a confirmation framed like a question.

_Indeed_

Mewtwo replied, scanning the arrayed monitors. Then he pieced together what the man was doing. 

_Sigh, really?_

"Did you just say the word _sigh_ to me telepathically? And yes, I'm billing you for that. Not like you'll ever have the assets to pay me back, but a businessman has to account for his losses."

Surprisingly, Delacroix had not seemed inwardly or outwardly concerned about the pokemons access to his terminal, so he browsed in silence. Finding, without any specific point to prove or goal in mind, very little of interest. But without Maximillion initiating conversation, the Pokemon knew it was pointless to push for information, that had always been the deal. The man never played cards against someone who could see both hands.

A side door opened and two figures stepped through. A human woman in a pristine suit of cobalt blue, matched by an alakazam wearing a similarly coloured mantle and identification badge. Though the holographic symbols in front were fuzzed, seemingly intentionally.

"Perfect." Delacroix said as the new arrivals took chairs at a nearby coffee table and lounge setting. Close enough to see and hear the proceedings, but far enough to appear as though giving Mewtwo and their employer privacy. "Mewtwo, meet Broker." He indicated towards the wizened alakazam who responded with a nod. "And Falke." he finished, acknowledging the woman as he did so. Then to the woman, "I'm sorry to ask, but we'll need something more…" he gave a pointed once over to mewtwo, "substantial for our guest as far as seating arrangements are concerned. I think we received a package two days ago, perhap-" he was cut off as the woman, Falke, left the room seemingly anticipating his errand.

_A human esper? Such a rare addition to your coterie Delacroix._ Mewtwo commented as he watched her go, the scent of psy-aura emanating around her.

_Mine, actually._ Replied the Alakazam, Broker. _I needed a liaison to aid in communication with my human colleagues within the business._

_You're a manager?_ Mewtwo asked, thankful his psychic control kept the surprise from his telepathic message. 

_A partner, actually. Though I won't give further information on the topic… I only talk on such terms to high profile clients._ The Alakazam stated with as much diplomacy as the mental speech would allow and meeting Delacroix's eye with a knowing stare.

"Ah, the chit-chat you two must be having." The man interjected, sensing a void in their mental conversation. "But I must make things awkward by asking that we use _words_ to discuss things further. I would hate to feel excluded." 

Delacroix approached the table just as Falke re-entered the room, a cross between a high backed throne and a levitating egg chair lifted telekinetically before her. It design and colouring matching the grey and violet of mewtwo's own body. The woman seemed apologetic at the poor taste, while Broker looked away. Maximillion laughed.

_I'd rather stand  
_

__"I'd rather you talked with sound and not thought. But I'm not getting what I want. Apparently." Delacroix responded with an exaggerated sigh.

"Fine." Mewtwo said, the deep baritone of his voice somewhat strained by underuse. "But I refuse to be part of your practical joke."

"Of course, but now that you are using your mouth to talk, perhaps I could interest you in wetting it with a drink. Distilled pecha sparkly was your choice last time if i recall correctly." He stated, withdrawing a bottle of exceptional vintage from a chilled cabinet that seemed to emerge from the floor by command.

"I don't recall drinking anything last time." The tall pokemon responded, though he lifted a glass telekinetically to be filled regardless.

"I guess I'm just a good judge of someone when it comes to alcohol." The man replied with a smile.

"Sir." The woman interjected. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I would be remiss if I did not express concerns with our," she glanced at Broker, who nodded, "ability to guard your mind from our guest.

"Your concerns are noted Falke." Delacroix acknowledged with a mollifying gesture. "But you aren't here to guard my mind. Sir #150 and I have dealt before, and if he tries to cheat in our little game here, I'll simply leave the table and nobody wins. It's your job to tell me if he does or not, whether or not you can stop him is not a factor. He's a powerful mind, but not a subtle one."

"You insult all your guests in such a manner." Mewtwo replied casually, the sweet alcohol easing the words. Though as far as he knew, intoxication was impossible.

"Only if I respect them." The man replied. "I save the sycophant act for the people who give me money."

"That seems shallow."

"It is, but it's part of the service they pay for."Replied Delacroix offhandedly, then switching gears like an arcanine entering extremespeed. "Now, about your investigation into the synth-A refineries off the hoenn northeast coast."

Mewtwo almost dropped his glass. "That was a… ambitious guess towards my intentions." He commented, grateful his tone undulated between a default setting of ominous and enigmatic.

"But not an incorrect one, I presume." Maximillion replied, pouring himself a glass of liquor. "If you give me your findings i can run the numbers. That's the second reason why i brought Broker in fact…" a pause. "No im not giving free information…" another pause. "Just give me this please…" He turned back to his guest. "My business partner believes I'm not treating this conversation with the respect it deserves. But I'm sure once you provide your findings, my assumption will be vindicated."

Mewtwo smiled and made a small gesture with his free hand "You're fabri-glass door. I left the disc outside, incase negotiations stalled."

Delecroix waved a ringed hand across the plastique arm of his chair. Apparently everything here was digitized so the man could control the building from the comfort of his living room. Showing off no doubt, but markedly less impressive than multi tasking a telekinetic lift within a self contained vacuum for atmospheric protection from over five hundred feet away. Not everything was a competition, but if it were, Mewtwo was certain he was winning.

"Do you have a hard drive i can plug into?" Mewtwo asked casually, psy light playing off his features as he spoke.

"Just drop it anywhere, the room can read on surface to surface contact. I didn't mess around when I built this place." The human gestured at the room around him.

With a shrug, and a noncommittal telekinetic movement, Mewtwo dropped the disc drive in a random hallway and left a mental marker where it was. He had no doubt that the building would steal everything on it, but he didn't want to forget the portable drive when he left.

Almost immediately, near translucent pulsating lines of blue ran along the glass floorwork and ran towards the inlaid coffee table. Projecting a holographic equivalent of files, spreadsheets and raw data. Mining reports, extraction details and other logistical numbers from a long since abandoned mine from beyond northern Hoenn.

"Alright, i think i know what you want." Delacroix mused as he flicked between the holographic pages. "I can see some inconsistencies between these and the income reports from when we owned shares here. But I'm not an Eidetiker… anymore. Hence why i have Broker." He nodded over to the Alakazam. "It's generally best that we discuss terms before I do this, IF I do this. I hate returning to baseline, but I should still honour any deal made before hand."

Mewtwo put his glass down and swept a hand ponderously through the hologram before them. If Delacroix had to go this far just to run the numbers for him, then the price would be heavy, a favour at least, maybe two. The man couldn't actually FORCE Mewtwo to honour the agreement, but the excellent intelligence and service he provided was always incentive enough not to go back on any deal they made. But BASELINE… that was a deep dive. Orders of magnitude higher in intelligence, but none of the compassion, as much an algorithm as the coding that run through the software around them.

The atrocities that had been committed and allowed by Delacroix at baseline faculties were beyond counting. The man had once shadow backed nearly every criminal organization the world had known, supplied them with the brains and technology behind each venture… including the one that had made Mewtwo. Likely, there were countless more failed programs whose data and results existed nowhere else but within the mans' damaged grey matter.

"So, if I may make another intuitive leap." Delacroix began. "You have found evidence of Synth-A back on… something, an underground market or heard a rumour of it being in production again. And-"

"I want to know how prolific it is? Who is buying it? Find its price on each regions' black market and follow its cost patterns to discern the base of operations by calculating expenses on those operations and shut it down." The pokemon finished, listing off criterion on each finger of his free hand. "Those calculations are not hard, I could do them myself, I just need your records to compare reagent levels. Don't dive for this, I will refuse to pay the cost if you do."

"Is this concern I'm sensing? Could the second coming of god actually have a heart?" Delacroix feigned mock astonishment.

"Must come from my pokemon side." Mewtwo chuckled, an unnatural sound more akin to an echo than a vocal movement.

"Hmmm, I believe it. Humans have never given you anything good, have they?" Maximillion agreed, somewhat more somber than his earlier jest. "Though I agree with you, having Broker dig through my memories for what you need is… unpleasant. But, as an Alakazam he IS an Eidetiker. So, it is very likely he found what you were looking for while he was treating me."

Silence sliced the conversation like a monomolecular blade. Delacroix claimed he held no grudge from the past. Even saying, in retrospect, that Mewtwo had dealt with the situation in the best way possible. But the moral implication of telepathic surgery, that someone only exists the way they do, thinks the way they do, because of what you did to them. It hung over the Pokemon like a guillotine, humans had tried to control the way he'd thought once, used him as a weapon. Now he did the same to this man, changed the way he thought, and used him as a tool.

"That would be preferable to the alternative." Mewtwo agreed. "And the matter of cost?"

Delacroix frowned, surface thoughts of doubt appearing so strongly that even without trying all three psychics in the room could have felt it. "I need a live sample…" He muttered. Not meeting his guests' eyes. "I need something, Pokemon or human, made with the formula."

Mewtwo turned a withering gaze on Broker, but the Alakazam was steadfast and met his eyes defiantly. 

_You already have the memories don't you. You needed my information, and now you have it. Now you need me to play fetch for you so you can profit from another atrocity._

A younger Mewtwo would have responded with something more than an accusation. Definitely outrage, possibly destruction and violence, the impulse to act on self righteous fury had been so close to the surface back then.

_Yes, we have the baseline memories. But not by choice, Mr. Delacroix… resets. Sporadically at first, but now its almost weekly. Insomnia seems to prevent relapses, but that brings its own faults. We need the man, not the monster. I think you can see the logic behind that._

The Alazkazam wasn't looking at Mewtwo when he responded, his opaque eyes were fixed firmly on his colleague, his patient. He was right, in every sense but a moral one. Maximillion Delacroix was worth too much to the world to not sacrifice another life for his.

"Please, you should understand. You HAVE to understand!" The once confident man no sounded resigned, his voice a defiant plea. "You know what it's like to be able to hurt so many people. To be afraid of what you can do. Just give me the chance to make up for what I did. I would do the same for you."

Mewtwo opened his mouth to speak. But lost faith in his ability to articulate the words. Instead opting for a more comfortable and private means of communication. An image, an experience. How far against his ideals this went, and how far he was willing to go to make it happen.

"Northwest of Galar region. Near the arctic rim islands. Stay safe." Delacroix said, finality in his voice.

Mewtwo left without a word and without promise. It was too early and too hard to make a decision without seeing the extent of this new organisations operations. Too many logical reasons why he couldn't do what the man had asked of him, but all of them secondary to his own bias.


End file.
